Leaving My Mark
by taylor allie
Summary: Draco Malfoy has many secrets. Most he flaunts, but one particular secret he keeps to himself. But this secret is about to make itself known. And he will do anything it takes to make a certain Mudblood know how he feels. WARNING! THERE WILL BE RAPE LATER!
1. Leaving My Mark

**A/N: Okay, guys, this is my little experiment, so... bear with me. It's a dark fic, and in Draco's POV. I just had a sudden burst of inspiration. Also, originally, it was going to be in third-person, but I think putting it in Draco's POV will look much better, considering the title. Well, here it goes!**

* * *

Obsession. Quite the peculiar word, isn't it? One might say that I have an obsession. If you want to call it that, be my guest. But 'obsessed' is what the lazy call 'dedicated' right? That's how I think of it. I'm very dedicated to her... more so than she will ever know. And perhaps, it's for the best that she doesn't. She wouldn't be too fond of that idea, learning that I watch her in the mornings and evenings in the Great Hall, that I stare at her in class and never listen to what the professor is lecturing, that every time I shag someone I'm picturing her instead of who I'm with. Yes... she wouldn't like the thought of knowing all of this.

But she doesn't have to know... right?

It could just be my little secret, as it has been for almost five years now. Five long years of concealing this emotion, though... at the time... I knew nothing of it. I just thought it was an extreme form of hatred. But, I came to learn that your heart doing a somersault wasn't a symptom of antipathy. That's what she did to me. She made my heart flip, my stomach settle uncomfortably in my throat and my entire calm-cool-and-collected attitude fade into a fit of nervousness. It was those damned chocolate eyes... and that bloody, bushy-brown hair... and the warm smile that I always wished was being sent my way...

"Purebloods and Mudbloods are not meant to intermingle", or so my father says. He says it's almost sinful to even think such thoughts. But... why can't I stop feeling this way? All I do is think, dream and talk about her. Though... when I talk about her... it's not usually in the "I like you" way.

"_You filthy, fucking, little Mudblood!"_

"_You're just a worthless Mudblood."_

"_I'll get that Mudblood, I swear on it!"_

Yes... to her, I'm not the nicest person. You could say we're rivals, because that's what most people consider us to be. We're always competing for the top spot in our year, and she's usually got it. Yes… she's very intelligent, as am I. I use our rivalry as a chance to talk with her. If I get a better grade on something, then I'll confront her and rub it in her face, just to see her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and anger. She's lovely when she's not doing anything in particular, but she's beautiful when she's angry or frustrated. It's funny that I still have that 'torment them' attitude about a girl I really like. I tormented Pansy a little in third and fourth year, and we dated, then broke up. But I can't date her again, not after our break up in the middle of last year. I told her I didn't love her anymore, and she took it harder than I imagined.

But I don't want to be with her, anyway.

No… my obsession lies in a middle-class home just outside of London… sleeping soundly in the dead of night whilst I think of her.

But she will never know.

Right?

"Congratulations, Draco!" Mother squealed as I showed her my letter from Hogwarts. It was the usual letter; my supplies and classes written, along with a nice little acceptance body copy. But there was something more this year, I had made Head Boy. Yes, after studying my ass off these past six years to strive to be the best, and succeeding only a few times, I am _finally_ being recognized and rewarded for it. I always had a feeling I'd make Head Boy, seeing as though for the past two years I was a Prefect. I just never thought it would actually happen. Now and then, I had some suspicion that Potter was going to be Head Boy, and the world would, once again, grovel at his feet. But it looks like they actually do choose, not out of favouritism, but out of skill and worthiness. Yes… there would definitely be a moment of me rubbing his face in this.

But I did think to remember who, exactly, would be beside me. That was one of the only things I could think about. Her as Head Girl, myself as Head Boy… this would be the perfect year. Maybe I could talk with her... maybe... I could... make her mine.

'_She could be yours, Draco. With just a little provoking, she could be yours.'_

My thoughts seduced me as I sat in my chair at the dinner table, my mother and father chatting about how nice it was to finally have me as Head Boy and other manners involving my schoolwork. I leaned back in the chair, in awe as a plan drew itself up. But what I was thinking was wrong... it was inhumane... it was cruel... yet, it was so perfect. It was the only way to show her, show her how I was always feeling. It would be painful, and it may leave some emotional scarring, but it had to be done. There was no other way.

And my planning began there as I excused myself from the table and went straight to my study to draw up my plans. I needed to be alone, and uninterrupted, for this plan had to be flawless. One chink in the chain and it would spiral out of control. No... no screw-ups... this plan... my plan... had to be perfect. I couldn't allow anything other than perfection for this particular plan. I was finally going to show her how I felt, and no one had to know. If someone found out... I don't even want to think about that...

So for now... only to myself... only I must know... but I will see her soon... and when that time comes...

I will leave my mark.

* * *

**Well... how do you like it so far? I think it's coming along fine. I hope you guys like it! I'll continue it if you think it has potential. Oh, and don't worry, I'll post the next chapter of DYRWIB soon. So... yeah! Review, please!**

**-Miya**


	2. Preparing for School

**A/N:** Okay, was he a little creepy in the first chapter, or what? I noticed some of you said _just_ that. And that makes me **HAPPY**! Why does that make me happy, you ask? Because that's **EXACTLY** what I was going for! You see, dear readers, that was just a glimpse of the Draco that will be in my story. Usually, you see some sex-crazed Draco that just goes around shagging anything with breasts then finally finds the best shag of his life in Hermione, or you'll see some Draco who becomes good and sensitive just for Hermione. Aww… how incredibly perverted and fluffy…

Well, if you like that kind of stuff, then this is something new for you. This is a crazy, morbid, twisted, psychotic side of Draco few touch into. I've read a total of seven fanfics about a psychotic Draco, and even fewer do it in this way. What I want, dear readers, is for you to read Draco's innermost thoughts and get the creeps at what you're reading. I want to you read some of the later scenes in this story and want to stop reading, but can't seem to look away. 

So, I hope we all get what we want- you to get a good read, and myself to give you something that makes your skin _crawl_.

Enjoy, the lot of you.

* * *

"DRACO ADRIAN MALFOY! GET UP THIS INSTANT! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR THE TRAIN AND, IF YOU ARE LATE, YOU WILL **NOT** LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES, MY BOY!"

Ugh… _must_ he do that every morning we are to leave for the platform? My father, the over reactive-lapdog… it's a pity, isn't it? Though, don't get me wrong, I have much respect for the man, and he's been my hero for forever, but what I said was true. He _does_ over react, and he _is_ a lapdog. He won't admit it, and probably would kill me for saying it, but that's what he is. Everyone knows it- Mother, You-Know-Who, all the Death Eaters, even _he_ knows. But we're Malfoys. We have pride, and we're too damned stubborn for our own good. So his pride and stubborn ness won't let him admit it.

"DRACO!" He yelled again, this time beating his cane on the door.

"Yes, Father, I know. I heard you the first time you decided to shatter my eardrums this morn," I said whilst getting up and walking over to the door, opening it abruptly.

"Draco, I-" He stopped after looking down at me, boxer-clad, and then back at my bed, girl-clad. He rose an eyebrow after identifying the girl in the sheets. "Why is Miss Parkinson curled up in your sheets?"

Now, I could give him the truth- which was Pansy came over _extremely_ early this morning through my window after her parents had a fight and her father hit her mother and she panicked. I mean, the girl had clothes on, just not the jacket she had been wearing the night before. Or I could just tell him what he was thinking in that perverted mind of his.

"She came over last night."

Yes, that would work… I wasn't lying, I wasn't telling the whole truth, and more dirty thoughts were flooding my father's head.

"Ah… well, tell her to get dressed, and you do the same. We're leaving in thirty, Draco. Not one second more." He took a glance at Pansy one last time before closing the door and stalking down the hallway.

I sighed and turned back to Pansy, making my way to the bed. I slept on a loveseat near my fireplace, giving my closest friend _my_ wonderful bed. Stupid girls and their stupid problems that they cry about. Pansy and I have been friends since we were in nappies, so of course she'd come here first. Everyone thought we were together, as in boyfriend and girlfriend. Though, to both of our distastes, no one seems to notice she and Zabini sucking face in the halls at school.

I ruffled Pansy's hair, causing a stir to come from the girl. Her hazel eyes glared up at me as I smirked down at her.

"C'mon, Pans, up with you. Father said we're leaving in thirty minutes for the platform, so if you want to shower today-"

"Are you trying to tell me something, Draco?" She asked, hazel eyes still fiery with aggravation. I rolled my eyes for a moment, delaying my answer on purpose.

"Well… don't you usually shower in the mornings?"

Pansy frowned for a moment, obviously knowing that I had a point. She threw the sheets off and revealed her knickers. Oh yeah… seeing the girl whom you consider a sister in her underwear was _the_ best way to start the day off…

"Pans, jeez, I thought you were dressed!" I looked away, grimacing. I mean, she wasn't fat or anything, it was like seeing your sister, though, and that alone made it wrong.

"Well, jeez, Draco, do you think I _want_ to wrinkle my clothes?" She rolled her eyes at me and huffed away, slamming the door to my bathroom. Hey… you're going to break the damned thing, stupid!

I looked over to the closet and saw her clothes hanging on a hanger on the coat hanger on my door. Must have done that while I was asleep. I mean, she came at around one-thirty this morning and nearly scared me half to death with her beating on my window for dear life. So I got her to stop crying, or at least calm down enough to tell me what happened, and gave up my bed to her. As soon as I hit that loveseat, I was out. So she must have undressed right after that.

I heard the shower running and humming coming deep from within the bathroom. Pansy was a hummer. She would hum music she played on the piano, or just whatever popped into her head. It bugged the bloody hell out of me most of the time, but Blaise seemed to like it so, whatever. She's his girlfriend, so that's fine with me. When they're forty with six kids and she's humming after a long day of fighting those little monsters while he's trying to sleep, he'll see it my way.

I stretched in the middle of my room for a moment, before yawning and walking over to the closet to choose an ensemble for the day. Hmm… black, black, black, black, green, black, black, black… no real colours, and no leather, either, might I add. Leather is chaffing and makes strange noises. Malfoys do _not_ make strange noises. So that's the end of _that_ conversation, onto the next. Ah, here's something… a white-oxford and a pair of khaki slacks with my dragon-hide boots. Hmm… they weren't black… and black is getting kind of… boring, so I guess I've found something.

I pulled on the pants just in time for Pansy to walk out, one towel hugging her body and one on her head. I rose an eyebrow as she gave me a look that said 'What now?'

"What! I don't want my hair to frizz, you know." She huffed and walked over to me. Well, I _thought_ she was walking over to me. Turns out she was getting her clothes, surprise surprise, before strutting back into the bathroom. Yes, you heard me right. She was _strutting_. What for? Hmmm… you've got me there.

"Pansy, when are you going to be done? We're leaving in less than five minutes!" I said after pulling my oxford on, making my way to the bathroom door and holding up my hand to _bang_ on said door. But right before my hand could make contact with the mahogany wood, Pansy opened the door, my fist stopping in mid-air. Her hair was dry and fixed, her make-up was on, and her teeth were sparkling white. Wow… magic… it was a wonderful thing.

"Did I mention I _love_ being able to use magic outside of school now that I'm seventeen!" She exclaimed, looking quite excited. Yes, we were both seventeen now and she simply loved doing magic outside of school. Just the _thought_ excited her. Yes, I _know_ she's strange.

"Hmm… now where have I heard that before… ? Oh yes, you told me this morning, when you came to my window and you were standing on my balcony with your Hogwarts trunk and all your stuff and I asked you how you got up there." I said, smirking down at her. Yes, Pansy was at least eight inches shorter than I.

"Yes, but still! I just love being able to say that!" She giggled and waltzed past me, opening the door and clearing her throat. "Dinky! Come get my trunk, please! And send someone for Draco's, too." She called out, her voice echoing throughout my house. That was kind of creepy, might I add. I mean, the wood and stone made _anything_ echo, even a cough.

"Yes, Miss Pansy, Dinky gets it," The house-elf said as he scurried into my room, followed by another. I rolled my eyes and walked into my bathroom, planning on brushing my teeth before leaving. I mean, I _know_ my teeth are perfect, but hey… they can't be _too_ perfect, can they?

As I was brushing, that's when the thought hit me. Teeth… _buck_-teeth…. Granger. Damn! Not now! Get. The. Images. **OUT**! Not images of her now-normal teeth, but images of her in many different scenarios, all involving her screaming bloody murder as I rape her. Yes… that was my plan. I was actually going to rape her. I mean, how _else_ could I do it? I am _not_ becoming a softie, and she's _not_ becoming evil, that's for sure. And not to remind you of the fact that she's a _Mudblood_. And the thought always left me uncomfortable. I am _no_ blushing-virgin, but the thought of rape is… strong. It's intoxicating, in a way. The thought was… so… tempting. I mean, sex is one thing, but rape? It was, almost, like a taboo. And taboos are not meant to be broken, but people still seemed to forget all shame and embarrassment -not to mention morals- to perform these forbidden acts. And now… one taboo was certainly leaving the imaginary behind and becoming closer to a reality as something could get.

"Draco! Come on, your father is going to have a culinary if we're not downstairs soon!" Pansy said, banging the door momentarily. Wow… must have lost track of what I was doing. I spit out the remaining toothpaste in my mouth and wiped the water and excess paste from my lips before bolting out of the door, mussing Pansy's hair, and running into the hall, laughing tauntingly at her.

She chased after me and yelled as she ran, trying her best to keep up. I took a glance over my shoulder, and realised the gap between us. The moment I turned back, though, Father was standing there. He had stopped me and was giving me that stern look he'd perfected. Anyone, even his "master", could cringe under that stare. I heard Pansy's quick footsteps become very slow as they got closer, and lighter at that.

"Draco… how many times have you been told not to run through the manor?" He glared down at me, then over at Pansy. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Pansy's head lower to gaze at the ground, obviously intimidated.

"I'm sorry, Father. We were just-"

"I don't care, Draco, you were told one-too-many times as a child to just forget. You're lucky we have somewhere to go, or it would be three lashings for you." He spat his words like venom as I nodded. Wow… really creepy…

"Yes Father."

"There's a good lad, now, come along, you too, Pansy. We're going to be late." He turned and swiftly walked away, leaving Pansy and I in the hall. Pansy walked up to me and grabbed the elbow of the sleeve of my oxford.

"Aren't you the lucky one? Thank Merlin for school, eh Draco?" She joked, trying to lighten the now-darkened mood that was set in the air. I smirked, chuckled, and nodded.

"Yes, my arse thanks Merlin for school every day." I joked back nudging her, and getting nudged in return as we started after my father.

----------------

"Good bye, Draco, write to me once a week! Give Mummy kisses!" Mother wept as she pulled me into another one of her vice grips, kissing my cheeks.

"Mother, _please_!" I growled, trying to push her off. But I failed, she'd gotten me. No, no, Pansy… go on without me… there's no hope left, now.

"Narcissa, let go of the boy. He'll miss the train," Father growled, as well, pulling my mother by the elbow away from me. I swear, the way she was acting, it was as if I was going to war, or something.

"Of course, of course. Bye, darling! Have fun at school!" She called out and waved before I returned her wave and walked off through the portal with Pansy, two elves pushing our carts. And who is the person she sees as soon as we reach the other side?

Blaise Xavier Zabini- her boyfriend of two years and my closest mate. Yes… it was like some reunion you only read about in books- Pansy took off faster than a Firebolt and straight into his arms as they began to snog passionately, clinging to one another as if for dear life. See? I told you it was like one of those scenes from a book.

"Hey Zabini, how was your summer?" I asked as I made my way to the happy couple, a little grossed out at their snogging, but felt my stomach ease as he broke the kiss.

"Meh, it was okay. What about yours, Malfoy? I mean, being the single guy you are." He smirked and wriggled his eyebrows, obviously asking if I'd shagged anyone.

"Nothing special, Zabini, nothing special at all," I returned his smirk, chucking deeply.

Blaise was one to use last names in conversation with everyone but his family. He called his father 'Father', his mother 'Mother', and his nine-year-old sister 'Monster', whose real name was Blare.

"Ah… not much action, or just not _good_ action?"

"A little bit of both… but not so much the latter," I shrugged it off, seeing Crabbe and Goyle come huffing and puffing over to our little group and taking their places on each side of me. My henchmen-toadies, how I loved having them around. The three of us had the perfect group- I was the brains, and they were the muscle. Well… not so much the perfect group as the one that was approaching right now.

The Golden Trio, the Awesome Threesome, the Heroes, the Golden Circle of Blissful-Fucking-Friendship.

Whatever you called it, it was Potter, Weasley and Granger. And they had everything a group of three could need. Harry Potter was the brave, virtuous hero who would sacrifice his life to save the world- or his friends. Ron Weasley was the wise-cracking, ginger sidekick of the hero who would panic when things started to get ugly. And then there was Hermione Granger- the brains and, recently, beauty of the group. She helped them solve just about anything that came their way, and asked for nothing in return.

Everyone just seemed to love, adore and worship them- not to mention grovel at their feet. It was sickening, which made my morbid fantasies worse.

Potter and Weasley spotted our group of five first, sending us warning glares. Granger was going on about something involving that giant monster she calls a cat and a book she'd read over the summer. It took her a moment to follow their gaze, but when she did, we locked eyes. Silver and brown held a stare. I couldn't find any emotion in her orbs, and mine didn't give much emotion away. And for a moment, something… clicked.

And as soon it did, we both looked away. Which, I must mention, made Granger receive odd looks from Potter and Weasley.

"What was that all about, Malfoy?" Goyle's deep voice asked from my right. I rolled my eyes and smacked the back of his head. Hey, it's not like he lost many brain cells. I think I may have killed of the, what, three that were in there? The ones that told him to breathe, blink and eat.

"Nothing, you idiot. They just think they're better than everybody else because one's got a scar, the other has the emotional range of a teaspoon and the girl's a walking encyclopaedia." This got a laugh from the group of Slytherins that had made their way to where our group was, including one from my group. I smirked as the trio turned about and Weasley's ears were as pink as Granger's jacket.

"You dirty ferret, say that to my face!" Weasley shouted, storming over to us, only to be grabbed by the elbow by Granger.

"Ron, stop this nonsense. Now." Her tone was rock-solid, and her face was set in stone. She meant what she'd said, but I wasn't going to realise that, right? Of course not, I live to start trouble with them. That's my only purpose until we leave school.

"Oh, Weasel-Bee, I didn't know you had a girl, and a Mudblood at that, to push you around. I've been wasting a lot of time if someone's been doing my work for me," I sneered, smirking as the group of, at least, fifteen Slytherins tightened together behind me.

"Don't call Hermione a Mudblood, you sick prat!" Potter spat, coming in front of Granger. Aww… so Potter has a soft spot for the Mudblood? Cute… a little cliché… but cute.

"I should have known _you_ would fall for Granger, Potty. I mean, the disgusting odour of Mudblood must remind you of your mother." I smirked, knowing I'd stricken a nerve. In fifth year, the idiot nearly attacked me when I spoke of his mother, and now was no different. Potter lunged at me, only to be stopped by Granger's other arm. Merlin, the girl kept a good grip on two anger-driven adolescent boys.

"Stop it, both of you!" She shouted, as they tried to writhe out of her grip.

"Having trouble with your dogs, Granger? You should keep them on shorter leashes, if you ask me." I spat, receiving more laughs from my group.

"Shut up, Malfoy," She sneered, frigidly, as the two boys in her hands calmed a bit and walked back to her side.

"Watch your tongue, Granger," I breathed, locking eyes with her again.

"C'mon, let's go. He's not worth it," Potter spat, taking Granger by the wrist and Weasley by the shoulder. Weasley made the backwards peace sign, a form of the middle-finger in the UK, and walked off with Potter and Granger. I rolled my eyes and turned to the group behind me as we all laughed like the evil, orthodox Slytherins we were.

----------------

"Go and fetch Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy. We have something to discuss with the both of you," Professor Snape said as he glanced over at the pursing McGonagall. I hate it when she gave people that look, it looked as if the woman was sucking on a lemon, or something. I nodded and stood, making my way out of the Heads compartment and began my search about the train for Granger.

After noticing not many people out of a compartment whilst the train was moving, sordid thoughts began to fill my conscience.

'You could cast the silencing charm on her and do it right out here… no one would know…'

I grimaced at the suggestion and shook the cool chill off my spine. It sounded so… tempting and stimulating… but I couldn't. Not yet… not until the time was right and now was not the time. Quiet, you, or it'll be my sweaty hand for the next week!

… Oh Merlin… I'm carrying mental conversations with my penis…

After peeking through about twenty different compartments, I finally found the one I had been looking for. Of course, I didn't need to look through it to know she was in there. It was opened slightly, and I could hear her talking.

"But, Harry has to be more careful this year. It's his last year at Hogwarts, and I _know_ You-Know-Who will attempt something. We can't put Harry in danger, Ron."

"You're acting like Harry hasn't done this before, 'Mione! He's not in any more danger than he's been in the past six years."

I sighed noiselessly to myself. Was this all they ever talked, thought or dreamed about? I hate to admit it, but You-Know-Who doesn't seem like he'll be able to make it for the next two minutes. He's… oh, I can't say. I can't find the words to say what I'm thinking, and I really don't even want to say it. Saying that would be agreeing that I have reliability in "good triumphing over evil" and my father would slay me if he heard me admit to something like that.

"Ron, Hermione's just concerned. But, Hermione, I _want_ to kill him. I want to make him pay for what he's done to my parents, and for Sirius… he has to pay for what he's done." Who knew Potter could be so serious about killing someone? Ever since the end of fifth year, he's been a little blood-thirsty. Kind of atypical if you ask me. Well, time to make my striking appearance.

"A little homicidal, don't you think so, Potter?" I mocked, pushing open the compartment door fully. Oh, so it was just the trio this time? No Weaslette, no Loony Lovegood, no Longbottom? From the looks of murderous rage they were giving me, I'm guessing this was a group meeting.

"What do you want, Mal-ferret?" Weasley sneered at me, giving me this look that said, 'Look, I can insult, too!'

"Actually, Granger." I smirked, watching the bewildered looks come on Weasley and Granger's faces whilst a much different, more possessively-enraged look came upon Potter's.

"What do you want with Hermione?" Potter spat, frostily, staring me down with this death glare. Merlin, the way he was glaring, you'd think I was You-Know-Who…

"Can't say. You know, _special _people only." I spat back, glancing over at Granger, who seemed to have figured out what I meant. Oh, this was going to be fun…

"Why you-"

"Harry, no. I'll see you two later," she said, getting up from her spot next to Potter. I rose an eyebrow, slightly surprised that she would be so nippy as to get up and leave her two best friends and walk away with a rival.

"But… Hermione…" Potter began, just to be cut off by Granger again.

"No, Harry. It's fine. I'll talk to you two later. Watch my stuff, alright?"

"You _may_ want to grab it, Mudblood. We're not coming back, you know." I sneered, causing Weasley and Potter to stand as Granger picked up her book bag and that monster of a cat.

"Where are you taking her, Malfoy!" Weasley asked, ears pink with fury. Jeez, everyone always gets so worked up, don't they?

"No where, Weasley. Besides, I wouldn't tell you, anyway. You're not fortunate enough to know." I smirked before getting pushed out of the compartment by Weasley, slamming hard into a wall behind me. I winced a bit as Potter came up beside Weasley, wand aimed at my neck. And all I could do was smirk.

"Get _off_ of him, you two! Every day, a row with the three of you!" Granger yelled, pulling Weasley off of me and Potter away. Her yelling caused some people to come out of their compartments to see what was going on. I simply brushed off my robes and sighed, turning to the heads popping outside of doorways.

"It's alright, everyone. It's just Weasley, it's just… Weasley." I said, causing a few snickers to come from some compartments. I heard a growl from behind me, and turned to see an enraged Weasley, an annoyed Potter and a stressed Granger who was trying to pull me away from the scene.

Oh, this can't look good. Granger pulling _me_ away? **No**. We can't have this. I scoffed, prying Granger's hands off my robes.

"Get _off_ of me, Mudblood! I don't want my robes to be dirty before the ceremony." Granger growled lowly in frustration and let go of my robes, turning to see nothing but an empty train behind us. She stopped in front of me, her cinnamon-brown eyes flickering with scepticism. Then… the feelings came back again… the images of myself throwing her petite body against a wall and ravishing her was all too much for me to handle.

"You're Head Boy, aren't you?" She asked, nervously, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself. I smirked and took a lock of her chestnut-brown curls in my hand, twisting it around one of my long, pale fingers.

"Maybe… but you want an answer, don't you Mudblood?" She winced at the name as she pulled away from my hand, which brought a glimmer of disclosure to my eyes. Was she that bothered by the name? I'd been calling her a Mudblood for five years now! How could she still be bothered by it?

"Yes. I want you to tell me if you're Head Boy. I'm Head Girl," she flashed her Head Girl badge under the Gryffindor patch on her robes, "and I knew Harry and Ron weren't Head Boy. I knew when you said only special people could know." She took a deep breath, as if readying herself for the blatant news. I smirked and nodded, taking my Head Boy badge from a pocket of my robes and pinning it under the Slytherin patch on mine.

"Well, then you really _are_ the brightest witch of your age, aren't you? Very observant, and clever, too," I said, a sinister kind of seduction in my voice. Merlin, where did that come from? I took a step toward her, a quick flash of fear sweeping through her orbs. I chuckled, taking another step. She seemed frozen with either shock or fear –or maybe both- as I surpassed over her. She and Pansy seemed about the same height, so it was fun looking straight down at her. I felt… dominant.

Without warning, I grabbed her by the arms and threw her, vigorously, against a wall, my arms on either side of her. Our faces were close, and I could feel her rapid hot-breath on my face. I smirked wickedly at her as she gulped, frozen under my gaze. It was then that I brought my lips crashing down onto hers, which caused her to yelp in surprise. She thrashed under me- pushing, pulling hair and hitting whatever she could reach. Then she bit my tongue, **hard**. I pulled away and felt that proverbial copper-taste in my mouth. I chuckled, sticking out my tongue a bit and wiping some of the blood away with a finger.

"Merlin, Granger, you bite hard," I smirked, swallowing the unpleasant taste of my own blood. She simply stared at me, wide-eyed and flushed.

"You… you _kissed_ me! Why did _you_ kiss me!" She asked pushing my shoulder to get my attention. I was sort of preoccupied messing with my tongue again. Merlin, you could fit a quill through there! She bit hard, and deep.

"Because you were asking for it."… Wow… not a good answer. But, hey, it was what came to mind at the time, so you can't blame me. She simply let her jaw drop, staring at me with disorientation.

In vengeance, I pushed her back against the wall and bit her bottom lip, as hard as I could. This caused her to yelp in pain, pushing me away again. This time, though, I let myself be pushed away. Now, I could taste her blood mixing with mine. Now, if anything had ever been enthralling before, this was over-the-top. I'd gotten a taste of her, and I wanted more.

"What are you doing!" She snivelled, putting a finger to her bleeding, swollen lip. I noticed her flinch when she touched it, tears misting her eyes. I simply smirked corruptly at her and grabbed her wrists, pulling her close again.

"If you dare tell a soul what happened, I swear in the name of all that is holy I will make your life so miserable, you'll be _begging_ me for death. Am I making myself clear enough for you?" My tone was low, cold and condescending, making me wonder what had gotten into me lately. I was acting shady, and it wouldn't look good. Maybe it was the anxiousness I'd recently acquired waiting for my time to strike… yeah, maybe that was it.

"Okay," she squeaked, eyes so overwhelmed with emotions that it was hard to pick just one. I smirked boldly down at her and let go of her wrists, leading the way to the Heads compartment.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, I leave you here! Ha ha ha haaaaa! So was this better? It reached eleven pages on Microsoft Word! **Woo-hoo**! Well… the only reason I'm leaving off here is because I'm out of ideas… so if it weren't for that, you'd find out right this minute what Snape and McGonagall had to talk to our little lovers about. 

If you noticed, I decided to put a little more sarcasm in this one. Throughout about 80 of this chapter, he's around his friends and he is known for having a quick, smart-ass mouth in canon. So I wanted his thoughts to reflect that wit, as well. But I must say my favourite line was, _"… Oh Merlin… I'm carrying mental conversations with my penis…"_

XD Yep-yep! 'Twas funny! But, I'm making this announcement:

I am discontinuing my story, Do You Really Want it Back? The only reason I'm doing so, is because it's gotten too fluffy for me. shudders So, yeah, chapter eleven was the last chapter. I'm sorry to the fans of that story, but, it's a lost cause. I hate to say it, but it is. I got way off track with it, and I couldn't possibly recover. I'd have to completely change my writing style for that story to get it to where it needs to be. And I'm not one for switching writing styles in the middle of a story. I'll be posting an announcement on there, too.

So, anyway, thanks guys! I thank EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU WHO REVIEWED! muah I LOVE YOU ALL! And a thanks to my future reviewers/fans/stalkers/flamers for even taking the time out of your day to give my story a chance. Thank you¡Gracias! Domo Arigato! Gutentag! Whatever way you say 'Thanks', I'm sending it out to you!

-Miya


	3. Keeping Her a Secret

It has been nearly two weeks since we arrived at Hogwarts for our last year of schooling, and Hermione Granger seems to have it made a point to avoid me this year. No matter, though; I've taken this as an opportunity to keep her suspicions about me to a minimum. That day on the train that I threatened her, it seemed to make her weary of me. Thought, she only seemed to be afraid when we were alone at any moment. When others were around, she simply ignored my presence, but when her two lackeys were around, she became bolder. In fact, the only time we ever spoke directly these past two weeks was when Potter and Weasley were around. Ha – smart girl, that one. She felt invincible standing with them, but alone with me she was as silent as the dead, slinking out of the room and into one with more witnesses. After Slughorn and the newly-appointed Headmistress McGonagall told us of our duties and responsibilities, she made a point to sit on the other side of the Head compartment, reading or staring out the window while petting the orange beast at her side.

Oh, you're wondering about me? Well, to tell you the truth, I simply watched her. I studied the poor girl when I had the chance, and kept track of the things I noticed about her. For instance, on the train she shifted positions twenty-three times, gave her cat some food four times, read close to one hundred and twelve pages, and stared out the window for a grand total of forty-eight minutes. I keep everything I observe about her jotted down in this journal I bought at Flourish & Blotts. It really is quite handy, and I've learned useful information about her that I am wise to write down. Oh, but don't think that this journal is without any charms on it; no, I've got four security charms on it, and am trying to make the image of it altered to everyone but myself to show a book on dragons with blank pages on the inside. It won't be long, now, before I get this spell working – I've nearly perfected this on a few other books. It is bad enough that I carry it around with me everywhere I go, even with the security spells, but to not have it disguised is worse. No matter, though, for I know of no one that can break through all four spells. So I'm safe for now; but I'm impressed with the information I've gathered. I've filled nearly half of it already, and the year has barely begun. It took a lot to acquire this kind of information, including eavesdropping, threats and bribing, but it all paid off. I know valuable information on her – her favourite colour is yellow, she has mastered every spell she's ever learned but one, Imperius, and hates herself for it, she doesn't keep with trends in the Muggle world and, contrary to popular belief, she's not all that innocent when it comes to she and her boyfriend, Weasley. Of course, she's still a virgin, but she hasn't been completely virginal; surprising, I know. Though, that information is barely a taste of what I know.

Currently, though, she's downstairs in our common room, reading a novel she started yesterday entitled Brave New World; a Muggle novel, no doubt. I'm sitting at my desk in my room, jotting down some potential ways to make my move. I have been planning since the end of August, nearly one month, and I still have yet to decide on a proper place and date at which to do it. I'm thinking sometime after the Christmas break, simply because she'd be closer to the Order during Christmas at home, and they would have time to strike. Just as I heard the flapping of wings outside my window, the tattoo of the skull with the serpent slithering through the mouth on my arm started to burn and throb in the cool air. Gritting my teeth, I turned to the window and saw my father's owl perched on my coat rack. I noticed the letter with the black seal, the Dark Mark burning even more upon sight of it. The plans … the ones my father was talking of. After removing the letter from the owl and giving the vermin a treat, I broke the seal and read over the Dark Lord's wishes:

Draco,

I'm sure your father's owl has delivered this to you. If so, be sure to send your response back with it, and it will promptly be delivered to me. Now, as you already know, I've told you to keep an eye on and an ear out for anything you feel is important. I expect a letter at the end of the month with your progress. Do not fail me, Draco, or you will know pain deeper than you could ever imagine. You remember our little talk last year about what would happen to your precious mother if you so dared to defy me, don't you? Well, consider this an extension of my previous threat.

In other news, however, I am happy to hear of your betrothment. Congratulations, she's a fine girl, and would make an exceptionally-behaved wife. I'm sure the two of you will create loyal children in the future.

That is all, Draco. Send your response on whether you understand or not, and also what you have uncovered so far. I'll be waiting.

I looked over the letter, growling in frustration. Of course I knew what he was talking about! What kind of dunderhead did he take me for?! Crumbling the letter, I merely tossed it over my shoulder. Whatever, I'll write him the damned letter and get on with my life. Snatching my quill from the ink pot, I quickly jotted down a response, trying to sound as polite as I could muster before spilling the green wax on it, sealing it with the Malfoy seal. Giving it to Father's owl, I felt the pain in my arm start to subside the farther the owl flew away. Turning back to my desk, my eyes rested on the journal as images of her flushed face, a moan tugging at the back of her throat, danced around my mind's eye. Sleep would not come easy tonight.

* * *

I woke early the next morning, having slept little than three hours. I never wake up dramatically, for it is not necesar. I've seen, over the years, boys wake up making the most obnoxious noises and stretching violently just to have everyone and their mothers acknowledge that they were, indeed, awake. After conscienceness overtook me, my eyes opened and I rose, quietly, from bed. I maybe stretched, maybe popped my neck, and started getting ready for the morning. It was a Thursday, so that meant Double Potions with the Gryffindors. That wasn't all too bad, considering that I knew the Head Girl would be there. As I buttoned my white oxford, an image of my hands gliding up her bare back, then my nails tearing into her soft skin, leaving a trail of my mark fluttered into my mind's eye. I took a sharp breath, feeling an erection growing in my pants. Damn - I needed to calm down! Looping the green and silver tie around my neck, I took a few deep breaths. If I were to survive waiting for my perfect opportunity, it would truly be a miracle. Every day the urges of pressing my body against hers in the dead of night or tucked away in the shadows became stronger. Ruffling my hair, I took a quick glance in the mirror. My skin, though pale, was dull in the dark room. I had failed to open the curtains or light a candle, so what little light that bled through the window was all I had. Dark circles, I could see, rest under my eyes like a still corpse in a tomb. Grabbing my book bag, slipping the journal inside, I walked out of my room and down the hall to the staircase, my eyes lingering on Granger's opening door.

When she saw me, she stopped momentarily. Her bright brown eyes grew wide with surprise as she reached for the door handle, pulling it closed with her eyes still locked with mine. I held no emotion on my face, but I knew my desire to hold her, kiss her, fuck her was burning deeply within me. She stood there, as if waiting for me to continue walking. My eyes traced every curve of her body as I stood there. The school sweater that she usually wore was absent, and the first three buttons of her oxford were undone, letting her tie fall to tease onlookers with the possibility of a bit of clevage showing. Some of her flat stomach was visible near the top of her skirt, which was mid-thigh in length, leaving her creamy legs to roam free. She truly was a stunning creature, and I felt my erection start to throb again. I motioned for her to walk, which she did with a mild sort-of hesitance. The light shined brilliantly on her brown locks, which had tamed considerably since first year, as she walked past me. She must have feared what I could do to her, judging by the look in her eyes, but she had nothing to fear. I would do no such thing until I was completely sure that it was the right time, and now was no such time - even though my body betrayed me in this decision.

We walked in silence to the Great Hall, her walking about two long strides a head of me. Occasionally, she'd look back at me, perhaps to see if I was any closer or not. Once she did, I locked eyes with her until she looked away, holding her novel closer to her chest. I smirked at her nervousness, finding it pleasing that she would be so cautious in my presence. Once we entered the Great Hall, she walked quickly to her usual spot between Potter and Weasley, directly across from the Weaslette. I strided over to the Slytherin table, sitting between Crabbe and Goyle and across from Blaise and Pansy. Around us were the nameless followers I had acquired over the years, but on the other side of Blaise sat my betrothed, Daphne Greengrass. My father had chosen her when we were ten, meetin each other for the first time one cool spring day. She was cute, blonde braids falling over her shoulders as her pretty green eyes sparkled with curiosity whilst the adults talked about the future the two of us were to share. Now here we are, seventeen-years-old and merely a few months away from marriage. We are scheduled to be married over the Christmas holiday and come back to Hogwarts as a married couple. I like her well enough, and she's definitely pretty enough to hold the Malfoy name. Also, she's different from the other girls I have been with; she's quiet, observant and always has a sweet smile on her face when I speak to her. She reminds me greatly of my mother, which is probably the only reason I choose to accept this marriage. Catching her eye, she gave me a warm smile I just couldn't help but return. Pushing Goyle down the bench, I made room for my bride-to-be to sit next to me. She jumped up and joined me, everyone noticing this and taking the message - Daphne was now in her place. Taking her smaller hand in mine, I gave her a kiss on the cheek before joining in Blaise's conversation about Quidditch.

Though it wasn't long before my eyes lingered to the Gryffindor table, watching my bushy-haired obsession as I listened to my friends talk. Eventually, Blaise grew suspicious of my actions and turned back to look at the tables beside us, to possibly see what was so important that it would have my total concentration. "What are you looking at, mate?" He turned back to me and rose a brow at my staring, not knowing who or what I was looking at. I merely gave him a smirk and met his eyes, looking away from Granger just as she laughed at something Weasley said. Jealousy burned my skin and singed my now-pink cheeks. That smile, the one that could light up a room. Why the fuck was it never directed at me?! She had the most lovely smile, and never once did she ever send it my way! I have lived on stolen glanced of that smile ... imagining that it was I she was smiling at. Deciding that I needed something to take my mind off of Granger, I released Daphne's hand and placed mine on her thigh, my fingers tickling the soft skin playfully. I looked over at her and saw the familiar rosy colour rise to her cheekbones. Gliding my hand a bit further up, her back straightened ever-so-slightly and I could tell she was biting her lower lip. My fingers eventually reached the cloth of her panties, and she took a sharp breath. Daphne, if you couldn't already tell, was most definitely a virgin. She told me at the beginning of sixth year that she wanted to remain a virgin until our wedding night, but said she wouldn't mind if I "got my rocks off somewhere else." Though she made one rule: after the "I do"s, no mistress, no affairs, no cheating. I agreed, but there will only be one girl that I do plan on fucking, regardless of marital status. Daphne would not keep me from that.

* * *

Did I ever mention that I hated Slughorn? Yes, well, I do; it would be partly because he holds no favour to Slytherin - and being the Head of Slytherin means he should - and partly because I'm not in that damned "Slug Club." Pfft ... fool ... but whatever, no matter, he's still better than the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I'm guessing that I failed to mention that, as well? In fact, the new DADA professor is none other than - wait for it - Arthur Weasley. Yes, the Weasley patriarch is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As if I thought life could become more _complete_, I was proved wrong.When I walked into class and saw the tall, red-headed fool standing there, I was nearly as surprised as the Trio. I know what he is here for; since day one I've known. You see, I'm a Legillimens-in-training, so I had to focus really hard to partially hear his thoughts. What I heard, though, sealed his place in the school in my eyes - _"Well, time to keep an eye on the littlest Death Eater."_ Excuse me - "littlest?" Hmph ... I'm not the _littlest_ Death Eater! I'm the **youngest** Death Eater, yes, but the littlest? I think not. No, that Yaxley wench is, by far, the shortest - standing at a mere 5'1 - and when it comes to little; ha, well, I seem to be blessed in that category, and Pettigrew would be the "littlest." Though, don't ask me how I know this - it'd be best not to ask. Regardless, I'm being watched like a hawk by the Order here. It's ridiculous, really, that they would be breathing down my neck like this. Though, looking at it from their point of view, it would be wise to keep an eye on the Dark Lord's First Minister. Yes, during the summer, I received a hefty promotion - my father's old position. He was promoted to High Commander, the best position in the Dark Lord's forces and second only to our Lord himself. After my father was bumped up, so was I. My Auntie Bellatrix was more happy for me than my mother was, simply because now I was in more danger - which Auntie viewed as good, and my mother viewed as bad.

But as I walked out of Potions, I couldn't help but feel a few sets of eyes on me. I knew who they were - Potter, Weasley and Granger - and I'm sad to say that it unnerved me only slightly. I took Daphne's hand in mine and walked with longer strides, wanting nothing more than to spend some quality time with my fiancé. Because I was a seventh year, I didn't have a day loaded with classes. I had well-deserved free time, and I knew exactly how I wanted to spend it. A smirk fell over my face as I led Daphne up to the staircase to the Heads dormitory. Muttering the password, I led my pretty blonde bride into the common room, tossing frail body onto the black leather sofa and throwing myself on top of her. I brought my lips to hers and she returned the kiss, moaning against my lips. I broke my lips from hers and brought them to her neck, seizing her throbbing vein as my own. She moaned as her back arched, bringing her chest up to meet mine. My hands snaked down her waist, unbuttoning her skirt and tugging down the troublesome clothing past her thighs. She instantly sat up, though I anticipated this.

"Darling, lie back down. You'll like this - I promise." I pushed her back down by her stomach, hearing her mutter softly to herself. She was always one for keeping her word, and that coupled with her stubborn nature meant I could not fuck her until the wedding. But, in the meantime, that didn't rule out other forms of pleasure. I left a ghostly trail of kisses from her lips to her chest, nipping at one of her brests on the way down to her stomach. I playfully bit her flat torso, teasing my mark with my tongue. A little lower, and she sat up, fear mixed with lust in her bright eyes. I merely went back to my work, biting the insides of her thights before going in for what was mine. When I did this, she gasped and placed her hands in my hair, wringing her fingers in my white-blonde locks. I smirked as my tongue teased her, tracing every fold of her womanhood I could find. I occasionally bit, which always received a moan, and continued my work until I felt her legs shake briefly wiht an orgasm. I have her one last bite before sitting up to see her eyes closed against her rosy face.

"So what did I tell you, love? I knew you'd like it." I smirked, proudly, at how I made her feel, and all she could do was give me a small lazy smile. Though, I must be true; I did picture someone else instead of her. Oh, but don't worry - that certain girl would get hers soon enough.

* * *

A/N: Yay! I'm done! Chapter upadate love. R&R please. 


End file.
